Chapter 15
Alma clapped Kyria on the shoulder so hard that she almost fell over.
“Good! Use this place as much as you like. Rohanen and I are always around, and the servants guard this area well, so monsters won’t get in.”
“Really? Yay, thank you so much!”
Safe laboratory, secured! Kyria cheered loudly, truly happy. Alma laughed, satisfied at her reaction.
A little later, Alma put spicy sauce chicken and soup made with Kyria’s purified ingredients onto a tray for the duke.
She covered the plates with lids, then turned to Kyria.
“Miss Kyria, will you take this to the young master?”
“Ah, yes.”
“That’s my job,” Rohanen quickly said, grabbing the tray.
“The lord is very sensitive right now—he’s working on an important letter of recommendation. I also have things to report to him.”
“No, not this time,” Alma argued, pulling the tray back.
“This meal was made thanks to Miss Kyria. Of course she should be the one to bring it. And Rohanen, I have something else for you to do.”
Her firm tone left no room for argument. Kyria ended up being the one to deliver the food.
Rohanen sighed deeply.
“You know the duke doesn’t like seeing outsiders. Don’t tease him, Alma.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“…Why do you think so?”
“A woman’s intuition.”
Rohanen had nothing to say back.
“…Fine. Then what is it you want me to do? I should finish quickly and go to the duke.”
“Hmm? So you really did have something to report, not just an excuse?”
“Yes. A very important report.”
Inside his pocket, the papers Kyria had dropped earlier waited quietly.
Meanwhile, in the duke’s room…
Birds chirped outside.
Duke Xenon frowned. He hadn’t slept all night.
It wasn’t the pain in his arm that kept him awake, but one question:
“Why did Medeia stop writing her poison-herb column?”
The magazine on his desk said:
[Medeia’s Poison Herb Column is paused due to personal reasons.]
That single line tormented him.
He couldn’t find her, couldn’t ask her, couldn’t help her. And yet, she had been his one and only light.
Once, after his arm changed strangely, he thought he would soon turn into a monster. So he left society and hid in his old castle. Luckily, the change stopped at his arm.
But rumors spread—people said he brought bad luck, that he was the “poison of the North.” The church even removed him as leader of the holy knights.
He began to believe it himself. “Maybe I really am a poison that shouldn’t exist.”
Then, one day, Rohanen brought him a magazine from the South.
In it, he discovered Medeia’s column—writing about poisonous herbs as medicine. Everyone else cursed her, called her a witch. But she never stopped.
Her words gave him courage. She made him feel like even someone like him had value. To Xenon, she was salvation.
But now, with her column gone, all he could do was send fan-vote postcards and donations. That felt pathetic.
He regretted not writing her more praise, not sending more support.
As he sighed, regretting, a knock came.
Knock, knock.
He didn’t answer. The door opened anyway.
“Good morning, my lord!”
“…!”
A cheerful voice, and a small head peeked in. Kyria.
“You… why are you here?”
Xenon sat up in shock, accidentally revealing his collarbone and chest through his robe.
“Uh—Alma asked me to bring you breakfast.”
Kyria looked away quickly, embarrassed. Xenon’s face hardened as he closed his robe.
“You haven’t passed your trial yet. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Well… that’s true. But they said you haven’t been eating properly. As your temporary apothecary, I can’t allow that—oh? Are those all documents? Did you stay up all night working?”
Xenon turned away and lay back down, ignoring her.
Kyria misunderstood, thinking he was just tired.
“Working hard is good, but you mustn’t overdo it! Are you sick anywhere?”
“…Go. Please.”
He pulled the blanket over his head like a child.
Kyria almost laughed but held it in.
“I’d like to go, but Alma said if you refuse food, I should… feed you myself.”
At that, Xenon immediately threw off the blanket and started eating.
Kyria stared at him. “Wow. I wasn’t really going to feed you, you know!”
Still, at least he was eating.
But soon, he paused.
“…The carrots taste good. Strange.”
“Do you normally hate carrots? Don’t tell me you’re picky like a child.”
“…No. When food is purified of magic, it usually loses its flavor.”
“Oh, right.”
“But this doesn’t. Why?”
Kyria proudly explained her purification method using poisonous herbs.
Xenon’s eyes sharpened with interest.
“You purified magic with poison herbs? Rohanen tried many ways and failed. Yet you succeeded.”
“Well, I’m an apothecary. That’s what we do.”
“No. Normal apothecaries never use poisonous herbs to heal.”
“…They don’t?”
“No. Only someone who knows their true value would.”
Xenon’s gaze grew intense, almost glowing.
“You turned danger into cure. Most would never think of it. That makes you a pioneer.”
“Uh… I wouldn’t go that far…”
Xenon ignored her embarrassment and kept praising.
“The method is simple, but brilliance often lies in simplicity.”
“Please stop…”
“Truly, your work is remarkable.”
Kyria squirmed, unable to bear it. She even pressed her finger to his lips.
“Stop talking!”
Both froze. Kyria quickly pulled her hand back.
“Y-you don’t need to force compliments. Just letting me stay here is already enough.”
“I only speak the truth.”
“…Ugh. I give up.”
Seeing her pout, Xenon tilted his head.
“I thought you’d be used to compliments. Guess I was wrong.”
“Used to them? Everyone in the South called me weird for studying poison herbs.”
“…Hmm.”
“You should be careful too, my lord. Nobles gossip. Reputation matters.”
“…So that’s why you dislike compliments? Because of what others say?”
His serious tone flustered her. Kyria mumbled,
“N-no, it’s not that… It’s just, I get embarrassed. If someone insulted me, at least I could fight back, but…”
Then—
Thud.
A large, warm hand rested on her head.
“…Eh?”
She looked up. Xenon’s hand was on her hair.
He seemed surprised too, but didn’t move it away.
“…Why are you touching my head?”
“…Because I want to praise you.”
“…This counts as praise?”
“Normally, don’t people pat heads when they compliment?”
“…That’s for kids or pets, though—”
Before she could finish, Xenon earnestly took her words and began awkwardly patting her head.
Pat. Pat.
